


Snow Cake

by Ytteb



Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 15:10:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6810445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is given a cake but he doesn't get to enjoy it in peace. </p><p>Originally written in January 2016 when the snow hit the US.</p><p>This was difficult to define - some (concealed) angsty moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Special Agent Gibbs looked gloomily out of the window where he could see the promised snow was beginning to fall. Director Vance had ordered the MCRT to go home the previous night before the city shut down: they had no hot cases and weren't on call so there was no need for them to hang around waiting to be snowed in.

Gibbs was puzzled. Most people who knew him would have thought that the prospect of two or three days' enforced isolation would have been perfect for him but, for some reason, Gibbs felt claustrophobic at the very thought. The phone rang, preventing him from examining his misgivings.

"Gibbs."

"Is that Mr Gibbs?" came a female voice.

Gibbs refrained from pointing out that he had just given his name, "Yes," he said.

"Mr Gibbs. This is Gloria Gordon." His caller paused, obviously expecting the name would mean something to Gibbs. "Tony's neighbour. Tony DiNozzo's neighbour."

A picture of a triple layer coffee cake popped into Gibbs' mind as he realised who he was talking to. Gloria Gordon was Tony's somewhat irascible neighbour who had nevertheless recognised DiNozzo as a connoisseur of home baking and had developed the habit of providing him with delicious cakes on a regular basis.

"Mrs Gordon," said Gibbs, "what can I do for you?"

"I'm worried about Tony," came the reply.

Gibbs' gut lurched although he guessed he shouldn't be surprised. DiNozzo seemed to trigger strong responses from the people he met: anger, irritation, charm induced swooning … and worry.

"What's the problem?" asked Gibbs, already calculating how long it would take him to drive to Tony's apartment.

"I'm going to stay with my daughter Victoria while the snow lasts. She lives a couple of blocks away, you know. I'd made Tony a special 'snow' cake and I brought it to him earlier today. And he didn't look well."

"How so?"

"It looked as if he'd slept on the couch all night. Now, I know he does that sometimes if he falls asleep while watching one of his movies but I didn't hear anything last night so I don't think that was the case. And he looked a bit … peaky. You know, washed out and he was coughing."

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Mrs Gordon. He'll have to rest up for a couple of days. Don't worry."

"He didn't get up off the couch," continued Gloria as if Gibbs hadn't spoken. "So I took the cake into the kitchen and I looked in the kitchen cabinets and the refrigerator."

"And?" asked Gibbs.

"They were empty, Mr Gibbs. Or rather, they weren't empty but I doubt if the contents were edible."

Gibbs didn't think an empty DiNozzo refrigerator was anything unusual but he didn't get a chance to comment.

"And, of course, normally I wouldn't be concerned, Mr Gibbs. I know that Tony eats out a lot and has pizza delivery on his speed dial but if the weather forecast is correct he won't be able to get out to buy food and I very much doubt if fast food will be arriving very speedily if there is a foot of snow on the ground. And, from what I have seen on the TV reports, supermarket shelves are bare."

"I see," said Gibbs.

"I would give him some food out of my own kitchen, Mr Gibbs, but I didn't stock up as I knew I was going to stay with Victoria. I have an abundant supply of flour, powdered sugar and vanilla extract but somehow I don't think that would be of much use to him."

"No," agreed Gibbs trying, and failing, to picture Tony knocking up a Victoria sponge.

"So," said Gloria.

"So?" asked Gibbs.

"So, I called you, Mr Gibbs."

"Yes?"

"Yes. I believe that government departments aim to be good employers, caring for the welfare of those who work for them."

"Yes."

"Good. Then you will take care of the situation," said Gloria crisply. "Good day."

Gibbs stared at his phone in surprise. It was rare for someone to hang up on him. He began to realise that Gloria was rather formidable: somehow it wasn't surprising that Tony allowed her to go rummaging through his closets. It wasn't long before Gibbs found himself heading to his front door, bundled up in his warmest jacket and with the keys to his truck in his hand. He wasn't exactly glad that Tony seemed to be in difficulty but he was pleased to have an excuse to get out on the road. Gibbs had prudently stocked up with essentials on his way home last night so he figured that he would simply scoop DiNozzo up and bring him back with him. He could always retreat to the basement if the whining about slow internet speed and black and white TV got too much.

NCISNCIS

It took Gibbs twice as long as normal to reach DiNozzo's place. He almost enjoyed the experience as there were hardly any other vehicles on the road to get in his way but he guessed that it wouldn't be long before the roads were impassable even for him.

Gibbs didn't get an answer when he pressed Tony's buzzer at the main door so he let himself in and sprinted up to Tony's apartment. He knocked once but, once again, there was no reply so he used his key to get in. The couch bore signs of someone having slept on it recently but there was no sign of Tony.

"DiNozzo!" he called out but there was no response.

He went into the bedroom – empty. Bathroom – empty. Kitchen – empty. The beginnings of real concern began to flutter in his stomach. He looked in the closet where Tony kept his outdoor clothes but could see no empty spaces. Gibbs wasn't often at a loss but he couldn't decide what to do next. He went into the kitchen, absentmindedly stuck a finger in the frosting on the 'snow' cake and then did another search of the apartment.

Coming up empty again, Gibbs emerged into the living room just as the door to the apartment opened.

"DiNozzo!" he snapped as he saw Tony letting himself in.

It was a long time since Tony had genuinely jumped at the sound of Gibbs' voice and, on another occasion, the sight of his agent's shock, would have given Gibbs a certain satisfaction.

"Jeez, Boss," said Tony when he had recovered enough to speak, "it's bad enough you sneak up on me at work without you coming to my apartment to do it!"

"Where have you been?" demanded Gibbs and then, having absorbed what Tony was wearing added, "and what's that you've got on? You look like a neon popsicle!"

"Hey," said Tony defensively as he answered the second question, "I'll have you know this is state of the art cold weather gear."

Gibbs raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"It is so," said Tony, "Senior sent it for my birthday a couple of years ago. He was working with this new clothing company, doing some marketing for them. I figure he got this as a free sample. Anyway, it's super light, super warm … Senior said it was something to do with NASA research."

"And the colour?" asked Gibbs.

Tony had the grace to look embarrassed as he looked down at his body clothed in bright green. "Yeah. Reckon that's why the range didn't take off. The idea was that if you got lost in the snow you'd be easily visible."

"They weren't wrong," agreed Gibbs.

"So I don't wear it that often," confessed Tony, "but it's perfect for a day like today. You know, when it's cold."

"And when you're not likely to meet anyone you know," suggested Gibbs beginning to recover his good humour at Tony's discomfiture.

"There is that," said Tony. "Er, Boss. What are you doing here? Did we get a case or something?"

"Looking for you, bozo," said Gibbs warming up again as he remembered the reason for the visit. "Where were you?"

"I was out," said Tony with as much dignity as he could muster while wearing a coat that looked as if it could light up the street.

"I guessed that," said Gibbs. "Your neighbour phoned me. To say that she was worried."

"Which one?" asked Tony, "I thought most of them had gone away while they could."

"Mrs Gordon," said Gibbs.

"Ahh," said Tony in the reverent tone which suggested he was remembering her baking creations.

"She said you were sick."

"Ahh," said Tony in a less reverent tone.

"She also said that you didn't have any food in the apartment. Aside from her snow cake."

"Oh yeah," said Tony sheepishly, "I was meant to pick stuff up last night but I sat down on my couch when I got home and I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew Gloria was tiptoeing into my living room carrying a cake. Actually, Gloria doesn't 'tiptoe'. When she came  _barging_ through the door."

"OK," said Gibbs, "grab your gear."

"Why?"

"You can't stay here without food. And you're sick."

"I'm fine," said Tony, "Ducky's taken care of that."

"Eh?" asked Gibbs.

"When I took my laptop out of my backpack this morning, I saw a care package tucked inside. Full of cough and cold remedies and with a note from Ducky giving me instructions on what to take and when."

"What?" said Gibbs.

"Seems he spotted me with a runny nose yesterday. And possibly a bit of a cough," admitted Tony.

Gibbs stared at Tony as he tried to think back to the previous day to remember if he'd noticed any signs of Tony going down with something. He vaguely remembered a feeling of irritation when Tony had sneezed a couple of times but he had gone to pay a visit to Abby soon afterwards to make sure her snow preparations were in place.

"Hey, don't feel guilty you didn't notice," said Tony. He met Gibbs' continued stare and went on hastily, "sorry, poor choice of words. Of course you don't feel guilty and of course you noticed."

Gibbs was surprised to find that he did in fact feel, not exactly guilty, but irritated that he hadn't picked up on Tony's symptoms. He remembered Gloria's words about being a good employer and wondered if he had dropped the ball somehow.

"Doesn't matter now," he said, "get your gear. And bring the medicine. You don't want to get on Ducky's wrong side."

"Why?" asked Tony.

"You think Ducky won't know if you don't take the medicine?" said Gibbs.

"No, not that," said Tony, "I mean, why have I got to get my gear?"

"You're coming back to my place," said Gibbs.

"But …" began Tony.

"You can't stay here without any food," said Gibbs, "come on. I haven't got all day."

"But I have got food," protested Tony.

"DiNozzo. You can't live on snow cake. You need proper food."

"Don't let Gloria hear you say that her cake isn't proper food," muttered Tony. "But I have got food. That's why I went out."

"DiNozzo, the shops are cleaned out," said Gibbs.

"I phoned the supermarket on the corner from work yesterday," said Tony, "asked them to do me up a couple of bags of food. They know what I like. I didn't get round to collecting it last night so I've just been down now."

Tony reached through the door and dragged in two big sacks of food from the corridor.

"See. I'm fine. I don't need rescuing."

Gibbs stared as Tony shucked off the disturbingly green coat and then took the food into the kitchen.

" _And_  my freezer's full," said Tony, "I wasn't going to starve."

Gibbs hesitated. It was odd to have come as a saviour only to find help wasn't needed and he realised that somehow he had got into the habit of thinking he had to 'rescue' Tony; that somehow Tony would always need him to give direction and advice. With a lurch in the pit of his stomach, Gibbs suddenly recognised that it had been a long time since Tony had looked to him in that way.

"You don't look well," said Gibbs in an effort to regain the initiative.

"It's just a cold," said Tony, rather spoiling the effect by coughing, "and a cough," he added, "I'll be fine. Plenty of fluids and rest, that's all I need." He met Gibbs' eyes, "Gibbs, you can trust me to know what to do. I don't want to end up with pneumonia any more than you want to be a man down in the squad room."

"You shouldn't be on your own," persisted Gibbs, "not when you're sick."

Tony returned from the kitchen. "I'm fine, Gibbs. Or at least fine enough to be at home on my own. I just need my own bed and I'm golden." Gibbs didn't move or say anything so Tony tried another tack, "Look. I'm sorry that Gloria bothered you for nothing. Thank you for coming to check but you don't need to stay."

"Don't know," said Gibbs, "strikes me that Gloria is a bit of a terror. What do you think she'll do to me when she finds out you turned me away?"

"Good point," acknowledged Tony, "but I'll tell her that you tried. Gibbs, you should get a move on. Get home while you can."

Gibbs nodded reluctantly and took a step towards the door.

"Your basement will be missing you," said Tony thinking this would be the clincher.

Instead, Gibbs felt a return of his earlier melancholy at the thought of being home alone for a few days.

"At least give me a piece of the snow cake," he said, "so the journey was worth it."

Tony seemed to think this was reasonable and tried to squash a sudden thought that Gibbs had trailed all the way across town just for a piece of cake.

"Sure," he said, "come on."

Gibbs and Tony went into the kitchen. Tony looked suspiciously at the cake,

"Do I need to test it for finger prints?" he asked, pointing at a hole in the frosting.

Gibbs shrugged and Tony had a sudden picture of a young Gibbs protesting his innocence in a Stillwater kitchen.

"What  _is_  snow cake?" asked Gibbs in a bid to distract Tony from a possible crime scene investigation.

"Don't know," said Tony, "time to investigate."

He and Gibbs leaned over the cake and sniffed.

"Coffee," sighed Gibbs.

"And maple syrup," said Tony.

"And butter cream frosting," they said together.

Tony got a knife and two plates and cut them each a generous slice.

"Do you want yours to go?" he asked.

"Nope," said Gibbs, "don't want to wait!"

Tony smiled as another picture of an eager and greedy young Gibbs came to mind.

"Coffee?" asked Tony. "Sorry. Stupid question. I'll put it on."

Tony and Gibbs ate their cake in the awed silence appropriate to Gloria's goodness.

"Thanks," said Gibbs as he finished his slice, "I'll head out now."

"OK," said Tony, "thanks for coming." He thought about adding something like 'it felt like old times' but settled for putting the dirty plates in the sink.

"See you Monday," said Gibbs, "make sure you take that medicine."

Tony simply nodded and Gibbs went to collect his coat. Tony, alone again, went and stood at the window. Somehow he wasn't surprised when, a few minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

"Snowed in," said Gibbs simply. Absorbed in snow cake the highly trained NCIS agents had both taken their eyes off their surroundings and not noticed that the snow had come down more heavily. Even Gibbs' mad driving skills would not get him home.

"Guess you'd better stay," said Tony, thinking how excited he would have been once at the prospect of the Boss staying over. Excited but terrified. These days he wasn't sure what to feel.

"I'll take the couch," said Gibbs.

"Bet your life you will," said Tony somewhat inhospitably. "I'm a sick man, remember."

Gibbs nodded.

"Um, Gibbs," said Tony uncertainly, "you do know my fire runs off gas, don't you? You can't cook steaks on it."

Gibbs nodded again.

"I guess if you need a basement you could go down to my store room," suggested Tony, "but there's no room to build a boat."

Gibbs nodded once more and then, seeing Tony look round distractedly, said, "No need to get your list of rules out. I promise to use coasters if I have a drink. And I won't invite any friends in."

Tony yawned. "I'm going to hit the rack. Help yourself to whatever you need. 'Fraid the TV is colour. Do you want me to show you how to switch to black and white?"

"I'll manage," said Gibbs drily.

"OK," said Tony doubtfully through another yawn, "John Wayne DVDs are at the end of the third shelf on the right. They're all alphabetised so …"

"They're with the Ws," said Gibbs solemnly.

"Er … yes," said Tony. "Do you want me to make some more coffee? My coffee maker's a bit complicated."

Gibbs delivered another stare which Tony took to mean that when it came to coffee Gibbs would find a way.

"No need," he said mildly, "tea will do."

Tony wiped his forehead anxiously. "I must be sicker than I thought," he said, "could have sworn you just said you'd drink tea."

"Not at work now," said Gibbs, "don't need the coffee."

Tony shook his head at that but decided he was too tired to work out if Gibbs needed coffee at work to keep him alert or whether he relied on its bitterness to keep him in a bad mood.

"See you later," he said, moving towards his bedroom.

Gibbs watched him go and walked across to the John Wayne DVD library. He was about to pick one out when Tony dashed back into the room,

"Don't eat all the cake!" he ordered.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gloria Gordon has had a walk on part in several of my stories but I decided it was time to give her some lines as well!
> 
> And yes, it's yet another cake story!


	2. Chapter 2

Tony lay on his bed fully clothed; partly because he was too tired to undress and partly because, with Gibbs in the next room, he somehow expected a call to arms at any time so couldn't relax. Eventually, however, after imagining Kate and Ziva swimming round their bowl, he succumbed to the lure of sleep.

He woke a couple of hours later feeling hot and sweaty as the effects of the cold made themselves known. He groaned as he felt the tickle in his throat and decided to go and have a hot shower to try and make himself feel better.

Fifteen minutes later, wearing soft corduroy pants and three sweaters of varying thicknesses, he emerged into the living room and stopped short at the sight before him. Gibbs was fast asleep on Tony's couch and was clutching a biography of Charlie Chaplin to his chest. Tony gazed in fascination as Gibbs slumbered on. Usually Gibbs had the hearing of a bat so it was odd that he hadn't woken up with the sound of the shower going. Tony shrugged and decided it was best to let sleeping Gibbses lie as, suddenly mindful of the need to be quiet, he tiptoed to the kitchen.

Once there he decided to make a hot drink to soothe his throat and to take a look at Ducky's cold remedies. He winced when he saw Ducky had provided a bottle of his home made cough syrup,  _Mallard Medicinal,_  the ingredients of which included rutabaga, dandelions, peppermint and camomile. It had proved effective in the past although not in the way that Ducky intended: one sniff of the medicine made Tony resolve to get better before he needed to take any.

Tony was more pleased to see that Ducky had included some cherry burst cold tablets and he decided to take some to try to relieve his shivery feeling. It was only as he dropped the tablets into his glass of water that he recalled the occupant of his couch. Sure enough the sound of the fizzing woke Gibbs up.

It took a moment or two for Gibbs to remember where he was but as a person who prided himself on always being aware of his surroundings he soon realised that he had fallen asleep in DiNozzo's apartment. He was puzzled, however, that he had slept so soundly and comfortably. Gibbs wasn't someone who enjoyed sleeping, for him sleeping was something which had to be done to keep the body going but was, essentially, a waste of time. He couldn't understand how some people seemed to  _enjoy_  the prospect of going to bed to sleep. Gibbs rarely bothered to go to bed but preferred just to take brief catnaps. His training as a sniper meant that he had learned to sleep lightly, always ready for action and he kept to that habit in civilian life.

Somehow, however, on DiNozzo's couch he had slept heavily and soundly. Gibbs lay for a few moments trying to work out this oddity; he wondered if it had something to do with the feeling of safety and security he felt in DiNozzo's apartment but this also seemed weird. Shaking his head as he decided to think about this later, he swung his legs to the floor and sat up.

"Coffee?" offered Tony.

Gibbs decided to try and be a good guest. "What you having?" he asked, willing to go along with Tony.

"Hot lemon and honey and cherry burst cold pills," said Tony.

"Coffee will be fine," said Gibbs. He moved into the kitchen to supervise. "How's the cold?" he asked.

"Two ninths of the way through," said Tony.

"What?"

"You know. It's the second day. Colds – three days coming, three days here, three days going. At least that's what my grandmother used to say."

"I don't know anything about colds," said Gibbs.

"Have you really never had a cold, Boss?" asked Tony.

"Nope," said Gibbs.

"Huh," said Tony, "guess it must be Nature's way of preserving the species."

"What?" asked Gibbs.

"You know. I'm trying to imagine how grumpy you'd be if you had a cold. The rest of us probably wouldn't survive," said Tony with the air of having solved a mystery.

"I'd suck it up," said Gibbs, "you wouldn't know I  _had_  a cold."

"If you say so, Boss," said Tony. "You hungry? I'm going to feed my cold. You know,  _feed a cold, and starve a fever_. Well, you probably don't … and I don't know what you do if you have a feverish cold. Anyway, do you want to eat?"

"Sure," said Gibbs deciding not to join in a discussion of something he knew nothing about. "What you having? Guess we can't dial out for pizza?"

"Thought I'd make a shepherd's pie," said Tony.

"A what?"

"You know, ground beef, mashed potato on top."

"I know what it is," said Gibbs, "I didn't think you cooked."

"Ah," said Tony, "well, the men's group? They have cooking demonstrations sometimes. I've got into cooking a bit more," he said with a touch of defiance.

Gibbs stared at Tony. He had never discussed the men's support group with Tony and had been unsure how he felt about it. Part of him still thought Tony would come to him with problems and the other part believed that problems weren't solved through talking, so the rumours of the men's group had puzzled him. He would have talked to Tony about the group if Tony had raised the subject but, like so many things recently, it seemed Tony didn't want his input. Gibbs decided to ignore the note of challenge,

"OK," he said, "shepherd's pie sounds good. Need a hand?"

Tony half expected that Gibbs would take over the preparation but in fact they found that they worked seamlessly together. They peeled and chopped the vegetables without getting in each other's way. Gibbs chopped onions while Tony grated cheese. Gibbs didn't interfere with the seasoning but trusted Tony's taste buds to deliver. Tony did delegate the mashing of the potatoes to Gibbs but then took over to pipe it on top of the meat. Gibbs scattered the cheese on top and stood back to allow Tony to put it in the oven.

Tony felt a sense of sadness when the work was done. Making their meal had brought back memories of how well they had worked together as a two man team; when they had been more like equals and Gibbs hadn't felt the need to play the 'Boss' card so often. He sighed as he wiped his hands,

"That was good," he said, "bit like old times."

"Old times?" said Gibbs, "when did we cook anything together?"

Tony was about to answer but suddenly realised that perhaps this was a lurking fear of Gibbs': that there were still things he didn't remember, things which could catch him out. Was it possible, Tony wondered, that Gibbs discouraged conversations, social interaction as a way of avoiding such pitfalls?

"We haven't, Boss," said Tony soothingly, "I meant it was like when it was just the two of us on the team. We work well together. Or at least, we did."

Gibbs nodded at that. He might not have recovered all his memories after the explosion but he did remember how well he and the cocky young detective from Baltimore had gelled. He frowned at Tony's suggestion that they no longer worked well together but changed the subject. He nodded towards the fish bowl,

"Is Kate the skinny one or the fat one?" he asked.

Tony choked. Gibbs looked at him in concern.

"Sorry," said Tony, "can you imagine what Kate would have said if you'd suggested she was fat?"

Gibbs grinned in acknowledgement. It was OK for Kate, or Ziva, to call their male co-workers fat but it would have been almost suicidal for the roles to be reversed.

"Kate," said Tony tactfully, "has the longer tail and Ziva has longer fins. And that's as far as I'm going. I'm not even going to consider that one of them is  _stouter_  than the other." He then spoiled the effect by adding, "Although Kate does eat more than Ziva."

Gibbs went and stood by the window and looked out.

"Still snowing," he said.

Tony went and joined him by the window.

"Wow," he said, "I can hardly see your truck."

"Won't be going home for a while," said Gibbs.

Tony looked at him in surprise. He might have expected irritation, resignation or impatience in Gibbs' voice but the Boss actually sounded quite mellow about the situation.

"Want to watch a movie?" suggested Tony, "like I said, I've got some of the Duke's masterpieces."

"How about that Japanese guy?" said Gibbs.

"What?" asked Tony.

"You know, Kemosabe."

"I think that's Tonto and the Lone Ranger, Boss," said Tony in a puzzled voice. "I don't know that there's a Japanese version of that."

"You went to some sort of festival of his work," said Gibbs.

"Oh," said Tony, " _Kurosawa,_  Akira Kurosawa. Well, yeah. I've got some of his. You might like 'Seven Samurai'. You sure, Boss?"

"Yeah," said Gibbs, feeling an unaccustomed wish to please Tony.

So Tony put the DVD on and they settled down to watch it. Gibbs wasn't sure he liked the movie but there were compensations in watching Tony mouth the dubbed dialogue. It was probably as well that Gibbs was not as absorbed in the movie as Tony since it meant that he noticed the smell of the shepherd's pie beginning to be overcooked. Tony and Gibbs' excellent teamwork hadn't extended to remembering to set the timer!

They brought back heaped plates to the couch along with bottles of beer and continued watching. Tony, entranced by the movie, barely noticed when Gibbs took his empty plate out of his unresisting hands but he did register when Gibbs returned with a piece of Gloria's snow cake.

"Thanks, Boss."

"Thank Gloria," said Gibbs wryly.

An hour or so later the movie ended and Tony came out of his trance.

"Thanks, Boss," he said.

"What for?" asked Gibbs in surprise.

"It's always better watching a movie with someone," said Tony.

Gibbs shrugged. In the same way that he didn't really understand about the life cycle of colds, he didn't understand DiNozzo's enjoyment of doing things in company especially when that company hadn't said anything throughout the movie.

"You're welcome," he said neutrally.

Tony sneezed. "I'm going to bed," he announced. "You sure you'll be all right on the couch, Boss? What am I saying? Of course you will be. Beds are for wimps. I'll get you some blankets and a pillow. If you want them. Not suggesting you need them. I'm sure you'd manage without them."

"I expect I would," said Gibbs tolerantly, "but that doesn't mean they're not good to have."

Tony brought Gibbs some blankets and a pillow and then brought him a pair of sweats.

"They might be a bit big," said Tony, "but they should be OK. You can borrow something else tomorrow. I've put out a spare toothbrush and stuff in the bathroom."

"Thanks," said Gibbs. He held out the sweats in front of him and considered another conundrum. Tony had always been a little taller than him but, in the early days, had been lean and stringy which had somehow diminished the height difference. Over the years, Tony had filled out. Despite some teasing from the team, and despite some occasional forays into plumpness, Tony was now fit, muscular and rather formidable. A man now, and no longer a boy. Gibbs realised that perhaps he hadn't noticed that Tony had matured, that he had grown up and was someone who could be trusted, relied on.

"Boss?" asked Tony.

Gibbs didn't answer immediately. He looked away from the sweats and looked round Tony's apartment. It was very different from when he had first moved in, when Gibbs had experienced that 'minty fresh smell of urine'. The apartment had, over the years, matured much as Tony had. It was now an elegant, well kept 'confident' place reflecting its owner but somehow this was something that Gibbs had missed as well. Tony had quietly got on with his life and, if Gibbs wasn't careful, might move out of Gibbs' reach.

"Boss?" said Tony again, concerned that Gibbs seemed lost in thought.

Gibbs' instinct was to ignore the question but then he realised that perhaps he did that too often. Perhaps it was time to change.

"I'm fine, Tony," he said, "I was just thinking that you have a nice place here. You've done well."

"Er … thanks, Boss," said Tony a little worriedly.

"Go to bed, Tony. Take some more of those pills Ducky gave you."

"OK, Gibbs," said Tony, still a bit nonplussed with this mellow version of Gibbs.

"Goodnight, Tony," said Gibbs.

"Night, Boss. See you in the morning," Tony walked away still shaking his head in puzzlement.

Just before he settled down for the night, Gibbs switched the TV on to catch the weather forecast. He nodded in satisfaction when he saw that the snow would continue for another day at least and would still be thick on the ground for some time after that. Somehow he thought these snow days might have been heaven sent. Some time seeing the 'real' Tony, reminding himself who Tony really was, might be just what Gibbs needed.

 


End file.
